


Hot Chocolate

by thewinchesterfromhell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Destiel Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-21 23:13:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6061708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewinchesterfromhell/pseuds/thewinchesterfromhell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam tries to waste Dean's mini marshmallow stash in his blow gun (which is homemade so it's only a pipe). And then he tries to get Cas involved but Dean's not having any of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> So I totally wrote this in December and then posted it on my Tumblr account (which is thewinchesterfromhell) but now I'm sharing it with you all :)

It started with the damn mini marshmallows. Dean had gotten them to make hot chocolate as the weather started getting colder, but Sam had other plans for them. 

The first time it had happened, Dean was walking back to his room after a shower. He heard a tiny pop sound behind him and felt a tap on the back of his neck a split second later. He brought his hand up to his neck but felt nothing, so he turned around, only to see nothing. He glanced around and it was then that he spotted the tiny white marshmallow lying on the ground. He curiously stared down at it for a second before continuing into his room.

The next five times followed a similar pattern. A pop, a tap, and a mini marshmallow on the ground. But no other clues that Dean could see. 

The seventh time it happened he was walking out of the kitchen with a bacon cheeseburger on a plate. He heard the pop, felt the tap, and whipped around, stalking back into the kitchen where he had left Sam.   
“What the hell was that?” he asked Sam. Sam, being Sam, innocently looked up from his salad with his big, puppy dog eyes and said, “Hm?”

“What was that?” Dean asked again. He picked up the marshmallow off the floor and tossed it into Sam’s salad. Sam did nothing but shrug, picking the marshmallow out and putting it on the counter. Sam was lucky Dean couldn’t see the plastic pipe stuck between his legs.

The eighth time it happened Dean was at his breaking point. Another marshmallow tapped against his head, but this time he didn’t hear silence like previously. Instead, around the corner behind him, he heard a muffled laughter followed by a gruff voice asking, “Was my aim good?” The laughter grew louder in answer to the man’s question.

Bothered by his brother’s shenanigans, he stalked toward the corner they were hiding behind. Sam and Castiel both looked up at him with wide eyes, having been too preoccupied with laughing to hear him approach. Dean snatched the white plastic tube out of Cas’ hands and the bag of mini marshmallows out of Sam’s. Both men were still staring up at him innocently. Since he knew that Cas was innocent (well, except for that last marshmallow), he only smacked Sam’s lanky legs with the pipe three times, in sync with his enunciated words: “Shame. On. You.” He then walked toward the kitchen to put the marshmallows back where they belong. 

As Dean was reading in bed later that night, he heard a soft tap on his door. 

“Come in,” he called out. The door slowly inched open to reveal Cas wearing a pair of Dean’s old flannel pants and an oversized AC/DC shirt. His baby blues looked troubled as he quietly smiled at Dean before fully stepping into the room. 

“Hey Cas. What’s up?” Dean asked him, brow furrowed in concern. It wasn’t often Cas came into his room this late at night, so he knew something was bothering him. Cas gently closed the door behind him and he walked to the end of Dean’s bed. In response, Dean sat fully up and closed his book next to him. 

“I just wanted to apologize for the marshmallow that I hit you with earlier,” Cas started. “I-I didn’t know it would bother you so much.” Cas looked down at his clasped hands and started to turn back towards the door to leave before Dean called out.

“Wait. Cas, it wasn’t really a big deal. Sam’s been doing it to me all week and he’s wasting those damn marshmallows,” Dean said. “Plus, I know it wasn’t your idea to hit me with those marshmallows, so don’t feel bad, man.”

Cas looked up at Dean with a look of surprise, like he didn’t think Dean would ever forgive him. “Thank you, Dean. And, if I may ask, why were you so mad Sam was wasting the marshmallows? There are plenty of marshmallows in the bag and one of us can always go to the store to get more if we run out.” Cas tilted his head a little bit to the side and continued staring at Dean in wonder. 

Dean considered his answer for a second before asking, “You got a few minutes, Cas?” Cas squinted his eyes and nodded once at Dean. Dean smiled and got off his bed before saying, “Good. Come with me,” and walking out his door.

Dean led Cas to the kitchen, where he grabbed the bag of mini marshmallows out of the cabinet where he had put them earlier. Then he grabbed a gallon of milk out of the fridge and two mugs off of the top shelves. He filled them with milk and stuck them in the microwave for a minute. Meanwhile, he grabbed two packets of hot chocolate mix, opening them for when the milk was ready. He didn’t even know he was whistling until Cas asked with a hint of frustration in his voice, “Dean, what are you whistling? It sounds familiar, but I can’t remember the words to it.”

Dean looked up from the packets of chocolate into Cas’ blue eyes. He forced a shrug to distract himself from how adorable Cas looked when he was curious. “Uh…” he tried, “I have no idea. Can you hum it?” 

Cas hummed the tune, and Dean recognized the Christmas tune immediately. He felt the blush storm up his neck and stain his cheeks. He scratched at the back of neck before the microwave beeped and he quickly turned away, busying himself with stirring the chocolate into the milk. He said over his shoulder, “I dunno, Cas. Sorry.”

Cas kept humming the tune, intent on figuring out what the song title was. Dean had trouble focusing on the task at hand because Cas’ humming was just so sweet and pure. He closed his eyes for a second and just listened before turning around with two mugs of hot chocolate in his hands, each topped with marshmallows. 

The look on Cas’ face was worth it all: the taps on his neck, the wasted marshmallows, the almost-getting-caught-humming-a-Christmas-song blush. The humming had come to a halt and his eyes had widened to blue marbles directed at the tiny mountains of white peeking over the mugs in Dean’s hand, and he couldn’t help but smile at the amazed looked on Cas’ face. 

“Dean. What is that?” Cas asked as he gently took one from Dean’s hand. 

“It’s called hot chocolate, Cas. Drink it,” Dean urged him. “Not too fast though. You don’t wanna burn your tongue,” he warned as Cas pressed his lips to the edge of the mug. He looked up at Dean through thick lashes, as if for approval, and slowly tipped the mug up. Dean smiled and nodded, encouraging Cas to taste it.

Dean took a sip of his own hot chocolate and watched Cas over his mug. Delight and fascination were etched into every crinkle around the man’s eyes as he smiled. “It’s amazing, Dean. I understand why you were so mad we wasted the marshmallows,” Cas commented as he stuck out a hand toward to the bag on the counter behind Dean. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), the bag was a little too far away. Cas ended up taking an extra step toward Dean in order to grab a few more marshmallows to plop in his mouth. They were now practically chest to chest, with just enough room for the mugs between them. Cas didn’t seem to notice, but Dean sure did. He felt another blush creeping up, so he hid himself behind his mug as he took another sip.

As Dean gazed down at Cas sipping his hot chocolate, he couldn’t help but adore the man. He was always trying to make Dean feel better, he never wanted to upset Dean, and how could you not love that tousled hair? Dean let his eyes roam freely over Cas’ face. His dark hair, his bright eyes, his perfectly pink lips…Dean let his gaze drop back into his mug and he took another sip to distract himself. 

“How do you like it, Cas?” Dean asked because he couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

“I love it, Dean. Thank you,” he replied with a genuine smile that made Dean grin back. 

Feeling a little reckless, Dean took a chance and asked, “You know what would go perfect with this?”

“Hm?” Cas said, still a little amazed by the small mug full of happiness.

“A kiss.”

Dean knew it was a risk, and he tried to use a light tone to let Cas know he was mostly kidding, but a part of him hoped Cas would take him seriously. He bit his lip as Cas looked up at him, giving him his full attention. He saw Cas’ eyes flit down to his lips for a second, then back up to meet his green eyes. He watched Cas cock his head to the side in consideration and Dean decided he was taking long enough.

“Cas, buddy, I was just kid—“ Cas cut him off as he leaned forward, closing the small gap between their lips. It was just a small peck, over as soon as it began, and Dean found himself wanting more. 

Dean carefully placed his mug on the counter behind him before softly cupping Cas’ face in his hands and leaning in once more. He brushed his lips against Cas’, taking pleasure in the hitch in his breath. He felt Cas wrap his arms around his sides, heard the soft clink of his mug on the counter before his fingertips dug into his back. His kissed Cas again, a little deeper this time. The way their lips glided together was pure perfection. 

Too impatient to wait any longer, Dean licked his way into Cas’ mouth. He relished in the moan that escaped Cas’ mouth, and he moved a hand down to his neck as Cas’ hands moved up his back, pulling them closer together. They fit together like two long-lost puzzle pieces, and Dean loved every second of it. 

It seemed too soon when Cas pulled back with a gasp and took a small step away from Dean. Dean immediately felt like the space between them was too much. Thinking he did something wrong, Dean quickly asked, with worry lacing his words, “Cas, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Did I do something?”

Instead of being upset like Dean had been expecting, he saw a small smile twitching at the corner of Cas’ lips. 

“I just figured out what song you were humming,” Cas admitted. Immediately, the blush returned to Dean’s cheeks, and Cas’ smile grew.

Dean decided to feign innocence and asked, “Oh yeah? What song was it?”

“’All I Want For Christmas is You,’” Cas said. Damn, Dean thought. He was good. 

Embarrased, he played it off with a shrug. “Huh. It was on the radio earlier and Sammy wanted to listen to it. I guess it stuck with me,” he tried, but Cas wasn’t having it.

Cas pressed a finger against Dean’s slicked lips. “Sh. I only want you for Christmas, too,” Cas smiled up at him. Then, after a second thought, added, “And maybe some more hot chocolate.”

Dean smirked against his finger and promised, “I can do that for you, Cas. Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Cas smiled up at Dean and kissed him, and this one was full of love and promise. And Dean had to admit, it went perfectly with hot chocolate.


End file.
